Your winter
by heathethanoshkosh
Summary: Kat and Patrick got into a fight when he asked her to the prom and then you see them there. Now I know the telepathy was not a key factor, so this is my idea of what may have happened.


Your winter  
  
Is it so wrong to not want to go to the prom? I've asked myself the same question for the last hour and a half. I just don't want to go why can't he understand that? Why does Bianca want to go to that stupid thing so much? I hate hurting her but for some strange reason I hate hurting Patrick more. I really shouldn't care. All we did was share a couple kisses, that's all. It's not like we got married or anything. But still I feel.horrible. Like I had ripped his heart out and stomped on it. In school I swear he avoids me. Yesterday he was going to go in the lunch line but he saw me in it and went in the other one, even though it cost him another fifteen minutes. And when I was going to English, he looked like he was going to actually attend class today and as soon as he saw me he gave me this wounded look and turned and walked away before I could even say anything. I miss him. I really do. He may have grated on my nerves before but now I miss him. I miss his smiles and the sweet things he says. I miss his kisses, hell anyone who has kissed him would. The boy can kiss. I miss his voice and his eyes and his smell and his presence. I miss his body too but that's beside the point.  
  
Gray ceiling on the earth it's lasted for a while.  
  
Take my thoughts for what their worth,  
  
I've been acting like a child.  
  
And your opinion, and what is that?  
  
It's just a different point of view.  
  
He hadn't imposed himself upon me or anything, he hadn't yelled at me either, not really. He had just asked and I got really mad. Or was it that I was afraid, or insecure. Afraid that he was being too nice. Scared that it was too good to be true. But even so he was mean. Telling me that I need therapy? I do not need therapy! There is nothing wrong with asking a question. He didn't have an, 'Oh shit I'm busted' look on his face, just a, 'Where the hell did that come from?' look. And then he was really mad at me, as if I had insulted him. Oh so now I need to have a motive to wanna be with you?.. You need therapy, you know that? Has anyone ever told you that?..NOTHING! ALL RIGHT! There is nothing in it for me, just the pleasure of you company. OK?! I can't get his words out of my mind.  
  
What else, what else can I do,  
  
I said I'm sorry, yeah I'm sorry.  
  
I said I'm sorry but what for?  
  
If I hurt you then I hate myself  
  
I don't want to hate myself  
  
I don't want to hurt you.  
  
I don't get him. He puts up with all my crap and then more. Why? Does he like it? Or is it because he really is into me and accepts that I'm relatively psychotic and profoundly, irreversibly screwed up. When he looks at me, it's like he sees something completely different to what I see. He sees this really cool, really funny person with an interesting outlook on life and whom he likes to be around. I don't' see that. I see a skinny girl who hurts on the inside. No one else sees that, but I think he can, I really do. He has a way of getting into my head that is just plain freaky. I hurt him and he stays. I don't get it. If he can get into my head doesn't he know that I'll hurt him? Does he even care?  
  
Why do you choose that pain?  
  
If you only knew  
  
How much I love you, love you.  
  
Well I won't be your winter.  
  
And I won't be anyone's excuse to cry.  
  
We can be forgiven.  
  
I will be here.  
  
I've wanted to call him and say that I'm sorry. I've wanted to do it for the longest time. Of course, I have yet to do it. I'm sitting right next to a phone, it's not like I can't call him. I just feel like he deserves more than 'I'm sorry'. What can I say to him? "Sorry I bit your head off chewed it up and spit it back out at you, by the way you still wanna go to the prom?" Yeah, that'll do it. I glance at the phone. I was the wrong one. I should apologize. We had taken some pictures at the Carnival thing. Right after we had played paint ball. They are by far the silliest things I have ever had the pleasure of being part of. Just looking at them makes me smile. He is so crazy. He is so contagious.  
  
Old picture on the shelf,  
  
It's been there for a while.  
  
Frozen image of ourselves,  
  
We were acting like a child.  
  
Innocent and in a trance  
  
In a dance that lasted for a while.  
  
I can't believe that he sang that song for me in front of the entire school. He danced and sang and ran from the cops. Spliced the audio system, broke into the announcers booth the whole thing. And ended up getting detention for me. It was stupid and sweet. Crazy, sweet. No one has ever gone that far out for me. I don't think anyone has gone out that far. He's amazing, and now he's mad at me. He reads me too well. It's freaky. He knows me better than I do, I think. Maybe that's what frightens me. He knows me but I don't know him. I never know what to expect. Every time I think I have him down he trips me up and sends me on a ride.  
  
You read my eyes just like your diary,  
  
Oh remember, please remember.  
  
That I'm not a beggar,  
  
But once more if I hurt you then I hate myself  
  
I don't wanna hate myself,  
  
Don't wanna hurt you.  
  
Why do you choose your pain if you only knew,  
  
How much I love you  
  
Oh.  
  
Well I won't be your winter.  
  
And I wont be anyone's excuse to cry.  
  
We can be forgiven.  
  
I will be here.  
  
I have to call him. I'm psychoanalyzing myself and that can never be good. Ever. I pick up the phone gingerly and dial his phone number. Someone picks up on the fifth ring.  
  
"Hello?" They say, my heart falls, it's not him. It's a woman. She has an Australian accent like him, she sounds like she is in her mid forties.  
  
"Hi, could I speak to Patrick?" I say. My voice sounds weak, afraid.  
  
"Yes, hold on dear." She says. She sounds nice. I hear her call his name, I hear him answer and then he picks up the phone.  
  
"I got it, mum." He calls. "Hello?" he says. I'm afraid to breathe. I can't get the words out. He waits a beat. "Hello?" he says again. Then, "Mum did they say who they were?" he calls out.  
  
"No dear."  
  
"Who is this?" he asked. I can't bring myself to talk, but I can't bring myself to hang up either. He's getting annoyed I can feel it. "Look who ever this is you had better bloody well speak up because I have neither the time nor the energy to put up with your shit or play guessing games." He says.  
  
"Patrick?" God is that my voice?  
  
"Kat?" he asks. He tone has changed. It's warmer, less intimidating. How can you recognize a voice you haven't heard that much anyway by one word?  
  
"Um.." I don't know what to say.  
  
"Hello? Kat is that you?" he asks.  
  
"Yeah, it's me." I say.  
  
"What do you want?" he asks. I can hear the icy tone creeping back in.  
  
"I needed to talk to you."  
  
"Why?" he's still mad I think. I could never really tell with him.  
  
"I wanted to know if you still wanted to go to the prom."  
  
"Oh, so you actually want to go now?" he asks dubiously. "Or is this a pity party."  
  
"No! I just wanted to know."  
  
"Why do you care?" he asks. I have to admit that that stung.  
  
"Well because Bianca really wanted to go and I figured that I'd give her a break. And I thought that maybe if you were past the Bite-Kat's-head-off stage in your anger step program that we could go together perhaps." He doesn't reply to this. I can hear him breathing. I figured that I should tell him the real reason that I feel horrible. "And because I.well I wanted to say that I was sorry for yelling at you. I didn't really have a reason to." Still there is silence from his end. He isn't talking and it's making me nervous.  
  
No, I won't be your winter.  
  
I won't be anyone's excuse to cry.  
  
We can be forgiven.  
  
I will be here.  
  
"Kat I was never really angry at you. Ever. I was just confused and frustrated with the whole thing. I just really didn't understand why it was so horrible of me to ask you to the prom. I didn't understand why you were mad and I lashed out. I shouldn't have yelled at you either. I'm sorry."  
  
"I really don't appreciate you trekking all over my apology. This is my thing to do so.just.apologize on your own time.or something. Just sit back and soak it in, it won't happen on a regular basis." I hear him laugh and it warms me. I can imagine his face. His wide pickerel grin.  
  
"So sorry." He says. "I'll make a mental note of that." He laughs again and I smile and giggle as well. 'So you want to go with me?"  
  
"Very much."  
  
I won't be your winter.  
  
I won't be anyone's excuse to cry.  
  
We can be forgiven.  
  
I will be here.  
  
"Can you find a dress?"  
  
"Can you find a tux?" I kick it back to him and I can just imagine his face. The rolling eyes, the look of amused annoyance.  
  
"Good bye Kat." He says dryly and then hangs up. I smile hang up as well. I turn to put the phone back down feeling light and giddy when it rings, startling me.  
  
"Hello?" I say.  
  
"To answer your question, yes." He says and then hangs up again. I burst out laughing, and bury my face in my pillow. I know he is probably laughing to himself, he is so contagious. 


End file.
